


Heat Conservation

by jedi_penguin



Category: The Darwath Series - Barbara Hambly
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 20:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13038819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedi_penguin/pseuds/jedi_penguin
Summary: Gil and Ingold's scouting trip to the Keep of Dare, from Ingold's point of view.Portions of the dialogue taken directly fromThe Time of the Dark.





	Heat Conservation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silveronthetree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveronthetree/gifts).



> When I saw this fandom, I realized that I hadn't read these books in over thirty years and that I should correct that situation. I was in the middle of re-reading them when I got my assignment, which left me pretty pumped. 
> 
> Having first read them when I was twelve, I had missed how incredibly 'shippy Gil and Ingold are, right from the beginning. I was particularly taken, moreover, at the way he called her "my dear" from their first meeting and then switched to "my child" after their super-shippy trip to the Keep. This is my explanation as to why, and **I** maintain that it fits into canon perfectly. Your mileage will almost certainly vary. *grin*
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoy(ed) whichever holiday you celebrate and that the season finds you happy and well.

The wizard peered down at Gil as she inched her way up the cliff face, battling both her injured arm and an obvious fear of heights. As he did so, he found himself facing the obvious conclusion: he, Ingold Inglorion, was an utter bastard. She had no business being here. If this was the way he treated his friends, it was little wonder that he had so few of them.

It may have been Gil’s idea to check out the Nest, but he never should have brought her with him. He should have slipped away while she slept and justified himself upon his return. She wouldn’t even have been angry with him for long; Gil was a practical woman and would have seen the logic behind any of a dozen reasons as to why he should have made this excursion on his own. He had scouted out Dark Nests before, and always by himself. He knew what to do and couldn’t afford to have an inexperienced companion make a mistake. He almost always travelled alone and wasn’t skilled at looking out for companions in the first place. Gil was still recovering from an injury that had nearly killed her (an injury, by the way, that would never have befallen her had she not followed him to a world that wasn’t her own) and the trip might be too onerous for her. Gil was the least trained of all the Guards and wasn’t ready for a scouting trip into enemy territory. This wasn’t her land and it wasn’t her fight.

There were so many reasons why he should have left Gil behind that Ingold carefully avoided asking himself whether he could think of any particular reason that he **should** have brought her. The question was always the answer, and his relationship with Gil was one puzzle that he preferred to leave unresolved.

Though, to be fair, he never could have anticipated her fear of heights. Gil had followed him into a Nest, not once, but twice. She had thrown herself into the Void without a moment’s hesitation. Over the course of a few days, she had touched a sword for the first time in her life and then immediately joined the Guards. He could be forgiven for assuming that Gil was entirely without fear; acrophobia was an unexpected component of her personality.

At one point, he feared that she wouldn’t follow him up the cliff at all. His heart had hammered in alarm to see her standing statue-still, so far below him. He’d like to claim that his terror was entirely due to Gil’s uncertain safety, surrounded as she was by the Dark and by White Raiders, but he simply wasn’t that skilled at lying to himself. He couldn’t deny a small, petty part of him was disturbed to realize that Gil would not, in fact, follow him anywhere.

And yet, she **had** followed him, even up a cliff face. She continued to follow him, though pain and fear. She was astonishing.

He smiled when she finally caught up with him. “Very good, my dear. We shall make a mountain climber out of you yet.”

He had to stifle a laugh at the incredulous look she shot him. “The hell you will!”

Ingold forced an extra note of cheerfulness into his voice when he described his plan for descending the mountain into the Vale of Renweth. Gil could have reasonably objected, but instead she pointed out that they would not make it to cover before dark and then shrugged when he told her that they had no choice. The truth was that they **didn’t** have a choice, but every other person he had ever met would have wasted precious time arguing the point anyway. 

Of course, Ingold had never encountered another soul who would have followed him into a Nest. And she had followed him twice.

Wanting to find an easier path for her, Ingold scouted out various trails while Gil rested. He found three possible trails immediately, but all of them were steeper and more treacherous than he would have liked. As he began looking for a fourth possibility, Gil called out to him, her voice projecting a strange mixture of fascination and panic. “Ingold! Come and look at this.” When he turned back, he saw her rigid form standing closer to the edge than was probably comfortable for her. Gil didn’t turn to see if he would acknowledge her; she was clearly transfixed with whatever it was that lay below. Not trusting her unnatural fascination, Ingold scrambled back to her as quickly as he could.

There was nothing down below that hadn’t been there earlier. No creature of the Dark, no Raiders, no rabbits, no living entity other than trees and vines. There was nothing that should have alarmed or interested anyone.

And yet, she still couldn’t pull her eyes away. “Look. Look out there.” She finally broke her gaze to look at him. “What do you see?”

Ingold didn’t understand the connection he had with Gil, but he did trust it. He trusted **her** , with his life and, more importantly, with his people. If she said there was something to see, then he just needed to open his perceptions until he could see it as well.

He saw mountains, abundant vegetation, and a river. All as they should be. He shook his head and reconsidered. Every growing thing looked exactly as it would were it growing in Gae or Khirsrit or any of the other great cities of the west. “It’s almost…” He hesitated, knowing how insane his thoughts were. But then he looked at Gil, and her eyes told him that she knew exactly what he was going to say. “Almost as if there was a city here at one time. But there never was, not in human history.” She gifted him with the proud but knowing smile of a teacher with a favorite student. She may have been a third of his age, but he found he liked that smile and wanted to see it repeated, so he tried to go a bit deeper. “But what causes **that**? It’s as if the vines grow thinner in places…”

“Buried foundations.” Although there was more to Gil’s explanation, Ingold didn’t need it. With those two words, the entire scene suddenly made sense to him. So much so that he had an answer for him when she observed that it didn’t look like any city she’d ever seen.

“Of course. There are no streets.” Gil stared at him in horror. She had seen the larger part of the truth, but his observation made the whole clear to her: this was a city designed by and for the Dark. There were no historical records of humans living in that city because no human ever had. “Come. This is no place for us to remain once the sun has gone in.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Ingold’s translation spell wasn’t quite up to that particular phrase, but her anxiousness to leave their resting spot made her meaning entirely clear. She matched his desire to get to the Keep as soon as possible.

*~*~*

The paths were worse once they were out of the valley, and even if they hadn’t been, the violent winds would have made their going treacherous. Ingold knew that Gil had to be scared out of her mind, but she made no complaints and never asked to rest. She simply followed.

Ingold didn’t know whether he should be flattered by Gil’s faith in him or terrified. 

When they finally came to a crevice that blocked the wind, Gil asked whether they could stay there for the rest of the night.

“There’s only the bare rock,” Ingold observed doubtfully, “and since I hadn’t anticipated that we wouldn’t return to the caravan before nightfall, I didn’t bring any blankets. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Gil smiled impishly. “Well… it’s true that I only stay at the Waldorf-Astoria whenever I travel, but I suspect that I can rough it just this once.”

Ingold’s translation spell suggested “extravagantly expensive inn” for “Waldorf-Astoria,” which probably destroyed the nuance of her joke, but he laughed heartily anyway. “Next time we travel together, my dear, I’ll make sure our accommodations are up to your exacting standards.”

“Why thank you, kind sir!” Her grin fell from her face, however, as she looked around. “There isn’t a whole lot of space though. Do you mind letting me take the spot closer to the wall? I’m not someone who thrashes around a lot at night, but…”

“But you’ll never sleep at all if you don’t have a barrier between you and the edge. Of course.” Ingold hesitated; this was a bit more uncomfortable. “Do you object to sleeping close to me? It’s cold and…”

“And body heat is our best asset when sleeping rough. It would be crazy not to conserve as much of it as possible.” Gil smiled again. “Right there with ya, Ingold.”

He felt like a fool for asking. Of course she wouldn’t have the same moral objection to sharing physical space with a wizard as the people of his own world did. And even if she had been a follower of the Straight God and had held the same prejudices, Gil Patterson was far too sensible to object to any strategy that increased their odds of survival. _Conserving body heat._. What a pragmatic way to look at enforced intimacy. How utterly typical of the woman.

After eating the last of their provisions, they lay down in the crevice. Gil tugged at him until Ingold moved closer to her, at which point she buried her face into his chest and instantly fell asleep. 

Sleep eluded him for several hours. He didn’t even have to ask the question to know the answer as to why.

~*~*~

The trails were easier in the morning, which was good, since they were out of food and were thus likely to tire sooner. They reached the Vale of Renweth by mid-afternoon, which was the best light for viewing the Keep. Even so, Gil’s amazed awe at the Keep was a pleasant surprise.

Ingold hadn’t stopped to consider how little he knew about the construction of the Keep until he found himself unable to answer her barrage of questions. While he remained convinced that the Keep was their best hope of safety, the depths of his ignorance was starting to alarm him. Luckily, Gil was too transfixed by the Keep to notice his unease.

When they reached the gates of the Keep, they found Eldor’s small garrison awaiting them. Like many Guards, the captain was blunt and cynical, but quick to offer a rough hospitality. 

Gil went with the Guards to close the gate. There was no particular reason to do so, but she seemed to have some questions for the Captain, so Ingold forced himself to relax as she left his line of vision. If they weren’t safe in the Keep, they weren’t safe anywhere; besides, she hardly needed him hovering over her at all times in any case. Once she was out of sight, Ingold clapped his hands and turned to the sole Guard who had remained with him. “I understand you lads make a mean Blue Ruin.”

The young man grinned. “The meanest!”

“Would you mind pouring two glasses, one for me and one for my friend when she returns?” Ingold took a small sip once he had his glass and immediately made a face. “Revolting!”

His host smiled broadly. He clearly took Ingold’s comment as a compliment. As it was intended.

When Gil and the rest of the Keep Guards returned, a small supper of roast mutton and coarse porridge was brought out. It was hardly a feast, but compared to the rations available at Karst, it rather felt like one. The meal was half over before Gil took a deep sip of the Blue Ruin that Ingold had placed in front of her upon her return. She immediately coughed and spit most of it out, much to the delight of the Guards. “Holy hell! What **is** that stuff?”

Ingold put on his best innocent expression. “Fermented root vegetables and bark. It’s somewhat of an acquired taste, I’m informed.” 

“Fermented root vegetables? Like vodka?” Ingold wasn’t familiar with that term, but he nodded anyway. His translation spell suggested to him that the term was accurate. “That sure as shit isn’t like any vodka I’ve ever tasted, but I think I could get used to it.” She took a smaller sip and grinned. “Definitely could get used to it.”

The captain slapped Gil hard on the back and the California grinned fiercely. Ingold had a fleeting sense that Gil could make a home here and be happy, but he forced that errant thought back to the recesses of his mind. She was going back to her own world as soon as it was safe for him to send her. He’d promised. And he wasn’t going to ask himself why a part of him was already missing her.

To distract himself, Ingold casually laid an arm across the back of Gil's chair. She shifted in order to be a bit closer to him, and he carefully avoided asking himself whether she was simply “conserving heat” again, or whether she had another reason to invade his personal space. Questions led to answers, and the fewer answers he had about his feelings towards Gil (or hers about him!) the better. 

~*~*~

After supper, they were shown to a tiny cell near the garrison’s quarters. Ingold thanked the captain graciously, but turned to Gil in some irritation after she’d left. “I’m sorry, Gil. There must be three hundred rooms in the Keep, probably more, and most of them are larger than this one. I don’t know why they have us sharing a room.”

“Because I asked,” Gil responded calmly. “This place is a bit creepy, and I just thought I’d feel better if we were together. I’m sure I can slip into another cell if it bothers you.”

“No, not at all.” Ingold sighed then grinned ruefully. “I just assumed that you would have had enough of my company over the past few days.”

“Never! How about you? You sick of me yet?”

“Never, my dear. Never.” Gil laughed at that, but Ingold feared there might be more truth there than he would have liked. “But with that said, I’m afraid that I won’t be very good company. I should check on the caravan and try again to get through to Lohiro. I might be spending quite some time with my crystal.”

“Go for it. I’m good. I’d just…” She stumbled then sighed. “I just like your company. That’s it. I enjoy spending time with you whether you’re talking to me or not.”

“And I enjoy your company as well, my dear.” Gil smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “And I yours.”

Unfortunately, his smile was short-lived. He spent over an hour peering into his crystal but learned nothing of consequence. The convoy was fine, but the Dark remained stubbornly elusive to his scrying. And his fellow wizards at Quo had all disappeared entirely.

Finally giving it up as a bad job, Ingold lay down on the floor, wrapping his cloak around himself as a rough blanket. The moment his head hit the floor, a wave of exhaustion hit him. Although he normally had a difficult time sleeping, he thought that would have no trouble staying unconscious for the entire night. 

Unfortunately, Gil had apparently had enough of his silence and wanted to chat. Her curiosity about the Keep and its customs was inexhaustible; he finally resorted to putting a sleep spell on her. He wondered whether he might feel guilty enough about this chicanery to keep him awake after all, but in fact, the opposite was true. The soft sound of her breathing was better than any lullaby he’d ever heard as a child. As to why he found her presence so soothing, well, that was another question he was determined not to ask himself.

~*~*~

The Dark were moving. He couldn’t see them, but he could sense them. They had a plan, and even though he couldn’t divine it, he knew that it would work. They were in danger!

Ingold bolted awake, instantly alert. He was in a small cell in the Keep, far away from the Dark, but equally far away from the convoy. If the Dark were attacking right now, there was nothing he could do about it.

A moan on the other side of the room drew his gaze towards Gil. She was thrashing and muttering in her sleep, clearly sensing the Dark just as surely as he had done. This was something that he had noticed before, that she lacked even the smallest spark of magic but could sense the Dark nonetheless. 

Ingold had given Gil a bare bones explanation for her sleepwalking across the Void, but he’d never quite believed it himself. It took vast amounts of inherent magic and intense concentration in order to cross the Void, but she had done so unconsciously, without the slightest trace of magic. Something in his world had drawn her here, and he was very much afraid that it might be the Dark. Not that she was their puppet—her immunity to their sirens’ song and ability to pull others out of their spell was proof of that—but he had never quite been certain whether her possible connection might work to their benefit. Now was the time to find out. He resisted the urge to wake her from her unpleasant dreams in the hope that she might learn something useful. He lit a blue witch light above his head and waited for her to wake on her own.

She awoke with a start but didn’t yell. Instead, she whispered his name so quietly that he barely heard her. With the same gentleness he’d show to a spooked horse, he asked her about her dreams.

She shivered, more in fear than in cold, he suspected. “The Dark.”

Still speaking as quietly and gently as he could, he demanded specifics from her. He could be patient, but he **had** to know if he could actually use her link to the Dark. 

She sat up, propping her back against the wall. “I don’t know where it was. There was water rushing, and stone. Hewn stone, I think. Pillars. They were tearing pieces of stone out of pillars, throwing them into rushing water and… and laughing.” Her eyes widened, as if the whole horror of the situation had just struck her. “They know where Tir is, Ingold.”

“So do I.” Without stopping to think about what he was doing, Ingold crossed the room and moved beside her. He put his arm over her shoulders, just as he had done at dinner. And like she had earlier in the evening, Gil snuggled closer, wiggling as much of her body under his protective arm as she could. “He’s with his mother, half a day’s journey below the stone bridge that crosses the gorge of the Arrow River.”

“How do you…” She shook her head in irritation. “Of course. You got that from your crystal.”

“For all the good it does us,” he said bitterly. “You know the nature of the Dark’s attack, and I know the location, but we are utterly unable to warn the caravan. Keep Law prevents us from setting out for them now, and tomorrow morning will likely be too late.”

“But we’ll try anyway!”

“Of course we will, my dear.” Ingold felt a burst of affection for Gil and her fierce determination to protect people she had never met a few short weeks ago. That affection coupled with lack of sleep overwhelmed his judgement and self-preservation; he bent his head to kiss her brow.

She looked up at him. If his action had been motivated by a paternal fondness (and he was careful to **not** ask himself if that was indeed the emotion that had prompted him to kiss her), what he saw reflected back at him was decidedly less innocent. It had been more than a few years since a woman had looked at Ingold with raw passion in her eyes, but not so many years that he had forgotten what it looked like. 

His voice hoarse and his heart hammering, he tried to stop this from going any further. “Gil--”

She cut him off by lunging up to kiss him, and if his kiss had been friendly and chaste, this was anything but. Open mouthed, she demanded a response from him. And heaven help him, respond he did.

Ingold’s hand gently caressed Gil’s face even as his tongue playfully battled hers for dominance. He lost all sense of time, knowing only that he didn’t want to be anyplace other than where he was. They might have sat there kissing for hours or perhaps only for a few seconds, but when Gil started wiggling out of her jacket, he abruptly came back to himself. “Gil. This isn’t a good idea.”

“You’re right.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously at him. “It’s not a good idea; it’s a **great** one.”

He tried to ignore this. “You’re under my protection. I refuse to take advantage of you.”

“I think I’ve saved your life more times than you’ve saved mine,” she pointed out reasonably, “so the whole ‘protection’ thing is a matter of debate. As for ‘taking advantage,’ I promise you, you’re not. I want this. I want **you**.”

Ingold hadn’t thought his heart could pound any harder, but Gil’s unambiguous declaration proved him wrong. Still, he felt the need to try one last time. “We have no possibility of a future, Gil. I’m sending you home as soon as I can. Falling in love is only asking for heartbreak, and in the very near future.”

She brought both hands up to his face and smiled wistfully. “I know that. It’s fine, Ingold. Really, it is. I’m not looking for any kind of commitment, and in fact, I don't think I want one any more than you do." He started to object that he wasn't opposed to commitments, but she continued before he could say anything. "Look. We're both freaked out by the Dark and by the fact that there's nothing we can do to help our friends right now. I think relieving the tension with sex would help us both. Why does it have to be anything more than that?" Her sad smile transformed into a mischievous grin. "And beside that, it's gotten pretty cold in here. A little skin-to-skin would conserve a great deal of heat."

Despite his reservations, he couldn't help but smile. "Well, if it's simply a matter of being practical..."

"Oh, it is!"

"Well then--" 

For the second time that night, Gil cut him off with a passionate kiss. This time, he didn't resist. He surrendered, first to her searing kiss and then to the urgent tugs on his robe. He moved to his knees so that he could remove his robe and undershirts even as Gil stripped off her clothes. Ingold kept his discarded garments close to use as blankets and Gil followed his example.

When they were both naked, Gil gently caressed his shoulders and trailed her fingers down his arms. “My, my, grandma! What big muscles you have!”

“Grandma?”

Gil laughed. “It’s a reference to a creepy children’s story from my world; I’ll tell it to you later. I just meant that your robe has been hiding a seriously ripped bod.”

Ingold’s translation spell was stymied by the phrase ‘ripped bod,’ but he assumed it was a compliment. He laughed with her then began his own exploration of her body.

She was far too thin. She had been thin when he first met her in her world, but weeks in Darwath had left her on the verge of malnourished, and that was his fault. He was equally to blame for her injured arm. It looked better than it had when he’d used magic to reknit the bones, but there was no denying that Gil’s first battle wound was healing slower than he would have liked. That too was his fault.

She was a reproach to him, living proof that it was dangerous to be his friend.

She was beautiful and entirely desirable, and no amount of guilt would ever make him wish that he was anyplace other than where he was right now. He was lost, and as Gil shifted and sighed beneath him, Ingold realized that he never wanted to be found. 

~*~*~

The sound of snoring directly in his left ear woke Ingold well before dawn. Gil’s bushy black hair had fallen into his face and her bony shoulder was protruding into his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so comfortable.

In the hazy netherland between sleep and wakefulness, Ingold found himself reliving the night before. As he moved from the lovemaking to the conversation that proceeded it, his contentment slipped away.

_I’m not looking for any kind of commitment. I don't want one any more than you do_

_Relieving the tension with sex_

_Why does it have to be anything more than that?_

_Heat conservation_

Gil was both pragmatic and sarcastic, two traits that he valued greatly. Those comments that bothered him so much were entirely in keeping with her personality, so **why** did they bother him so much?

Ingold tried to recall the question before it could settle into his conscious mind, but of course, it was too late. The question was asked, and it had an answer. The question itself was the answer. The question was always the answer.

_Her jokes suggested a certain flippancy towards physical intimacy, a flippancy that he could never match because he was in love with her. And he very much feared that Gil’s nonchalant attitude indicated that his feelings were not reciprocated._

Wait. He was in love with Gil?

His analytical self didn’t bother formulating an answer to that question. Of course he was in love with Gil. He had been halfway towards being in love with her the first time he talked to her. She had been an insubstantial ghost in his world, a vision that none could see but him. His own personal angel, sent to one that the Straight God had forsaken. She had watched his conversation with Eldor, and when he left, Ingold had tried to coax her out. He told her to not be afraid and she said that she wasn’t. It was the **way** that she declared her lack of fear that had fascinated him, as if fear itself was so foreign to her that she couldn’t imagine feeling it.

He followed her to her own world, that bright city full of lights and, based upon its name, also filled with angels. He told himself that he needed to ensure that she wasn’t a threat. And he told himself that perhaps she could help. But the truth was, he wanted to know more about the Fearless Woman, as he had named her. Her home was a revelation. She had more books in her living quarters than most great cities had in their libraries. And she evidently read many of them, perhaps all. They were almost all well worn, or turned upside down to mark a page, or marked up with notes. Even Quo held few scholars as well read as she appeared to be, and she was **young**. What wealth of knowledge would she contain when she reached his own age? A mind that inquisitive was like catnip to Ingold; how could he resist?

But it was in Gae that he truly lost his heart to Gil. The Dark had enticed him down to their Nest and they would have had him if she hadn’t woken him out of his trance. It wasn’t the fact that she had saved his life that made him love her, however, it was that she had come alone. Her discomfort at admitting that she had done something so foolish was equaled only by her fierceness in saving him, and he was charmed. He had spent decades alone, and content to be so, but his disdain for romantic relationships melted away in the blink of an eye.

Of course he was in love with Gil. He may have stubbornly refused to admit it until this morning, but deep down, he’d known for weeks.

But there was something else that he had known yet refused to acknowledge: Gil had the ability to destroy him. She was a hard-hearted woman who didn’t see any reason to connect sex with emotions, and it wouldn’t occur to her that his heart would read more into their intimacy than his mind knew to be there. He didn’t judge her for this; he hadn’t been so different before he’d met her.

He couldn’t afford a repeat of last night; he would be lost beyond all saving. Not that he would be distant or awkward to Gil once she woke up; even if he hadn’t been in love with her, Ingold was unskilled in deliberate cruelty. 

Besides that, he didn’t have to be. He had always intended to leave for Quo as soon as the caravan was settled into the Keep; he could alter his plans to leave as soon as the refugees arrived, and no one would know that his schedule had changed. He would send Gil back to her own world as soon as he and his fellow wizards returned, and they would both go back to their own lives. This could be a one-off, and neither of them needed to be hurt by it.

Decision made, Ingold found himself anxious to leave the Keep. The caravan was still a good distance away, and the two of them needed to depart as soon as the sun was up if they were to rejoin the others before dark. 

Resisting the urge to waken his companion with a kiss, Ingold shook her slightly. “Gil. Time to wake up, my—“ He hesitated. Perhaps he could place a little distance between them without hurting her. Instead of his usual term for Gil, he continued, “Time to be up, my child. We should be leaving soon.”

Gil looked slightly confused. Ingold had called her ‘my dear’ from their first conversation in her apartment. He could see her give a mental shrug, however, and then she gifted him with a sweet smile. If he hadn’t already been in love with her, the look on her face would have done it for him. “Good morning. Maybe. It feels like it’s still dark.”

”That’s because it is. We need to get dressed and have breakfast, so we can be out the gates the moment the guards open them.” He frowned slightly. “The caravan is further away than I would like, but we should make it in time to warn them about the Dark’s attack if we get an early start.”

The pragmatic approach was always the correct one to take with Gil. The sentimental gleam in her eyes died and was replaced with purpose. She was focused on saving the caravan and would not divert her attention by trying to discuss what had happened the night before. Ingold had acquired the results he most desired, and he hated himself a bit for it.

Unaware of Ingold’s internal conflict, Gil set about getting ready for their day. She sat up and began to dress as rapidly as she could, shivering in the cold air of their unheated room as she did so. Left without a warm body beside him, Ingold quickly followed suit.

Heat could only be conserved for so long, after all.

THE END


End file.
